


Disappearing Like Europe

by JoMarch



Series: Exit Strategy [3]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-26 00:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1667732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMarch/pseuds/JoMarch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Donna makes up her mind.  Sequel to "Exit Strategy: Impervious."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Disappearing Like Europe

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: "The War at Home," "Somebody's Going to Emergency, Somebody's Going to Jail" 
> 
> Disclaimer: It's Aaron Sorkin's playground; I'm just visiting. 
> 
> Thanks, as always, to Ryo, who demanded that I write something today.

"I'm thinking of Stephanie for Josh," I whisper to CJ. Whispers are necessary because Josh is only a few feet away, doing the male version of comforting your best friend. The male version of this ritual seems to consist of getting your friend as drunk as possible. 

Because Josh has a delicate system, of course, this ritual is backfiring. Sam is, at present, imploring Toby to help him keep Josh from toppling over. 

I take a sip of my whiskey sour and restrain my impulse to go running over and help. 

"Your friend Stephanie?" CJ asks. "You want to set Josh up?" 

I nod. "This could work. Stephanie's smart, she's cute, and Josh likes her." 

"She's from out of town though, isn't she?" CJ asks. 

"She could move." 

"You think this is a good idea? Considering what happened with Joey Lucas?" 

"I'm merely considering my options." 

"Technically, they're Josh's options," CJ replies. "And as I've said before--" 

"If I'm going to leave, I should make up my mind to leave. I know." I look over toward the bar, where Josh has given up on the comforting thing and is staring morosely into his beer. His third beer, which is definitely his limit. 

I am quite proud of myself for not marching over there and pointing this out to him. 

Proof positive I'm over him. 

Not that I've ever been under him. 

Okay, I'm getting a little giddy there myself. I push the whiskey sour away. 

"I'm making plans," I announce to CJ. "I've narrowed the list to five schools. I'll start filling out applications as soon as I have a free day." 

"And you have so many of those," CJ points out. 

"I'm saying that he could do worse than Steph." I am determined to steer this conversation in the proper direction. 

"As much as it pains me to point this out," CJ replies, "Josh and Stephanie Gault would actually be a worse idea than Josh and you." 

"I don't see why." 

"A political operative involved with the granddaughter of a man whose name is right up there with Alger Hiss and the Rosenbergs? Josh could kiss his career goodbye." 

Now there's a sobering thought. So sobering, in fact, that I figure it's safe to finish my whiskey sour. "Well," I say with a shrug, "it was just an idea." 

"You should stop having ideas. You should stop making all these tentative plans. You should do whatever it is you're going to do before I get an ulcer." 

"It's just that I'm not sure where I stand with Josh anymore." 

"After today," CJ mutters, "I'll never be sure where anyone stands anymore." 

CJ finishes her drink and orders another while I stare into space. Or, more accurately, while I stare at Josh. Who, after a minute, starts staring back. 

Why the hell is he staring at me like that? 

The sound of CJ ordering yet another drink brings me out of my Josh-induced trance. How long was I staring? 

How long was he staring? 

Why was he staring? 

"I mean," I say, trying to get back to my conversation with CJ, "sometimes I think--but I'm completely wrong; I know I am." 

"It disappeared. Just like that. Half of freaking Europe disappeared." 

"Even if I were right, what difference would it make?" 

"And what if we've been walking around upside down this whole time? Think about the ramifications of that." 

"CJ, are you getting drunk? Cause you're starting to sound like Josh and his physics books." 

"Of course I'm getting drunk. The world is upside down, half of Europe's gone, nothing's where it's supposed to be anymore, it's only a matter of time until you jump Josh's bones and land us all in hot water. Hell, the only logical thing a woman can do at a time like this is get plastered." 

"I am not jumping Josh's bones." 

CJ shrugs. "So he'll jump yours. The result will be the same. We'll be up the creek. A creek for which there is no map." 

I take another look toward the bar, which is safe to do because Josh is talking to Sam. 

"I hate that scarf," I say. 

CJ follows my gaze. "What's wrong with it?" 

"It's a relic from the Reign of Terror." 

"Huh?" 

"Mandy gave it to him." 

"God, I miss Mandy." 

"I thought you weren't fond of Mandy." 

"She had her uses. Mostly, she kept him from jumping your bones." 

"He was miserable during the Reign of Terror." 

"Because Mandy was keeping him from jumping your bones." 

"Do you think he's been acting weird lately?" 

"Define weird." 

"I don't know--he seems--he's been staring a lot lately." 

"Staring at what?" 

"At me." 

"That's hardly new." 

"Yes, it is." 

"It isn't. He's been staring at you for most of the last three years." CJ looks over toward the bar. "Yep. There he goes again with the staring." 

"He should stop doing that. It's disconcerting." 

"It's hot is what it is." 

I force myself to stop looking at Josh and concentrate on CJ's outrageous statement. "CJ! I thought you were the one who has nightmares about the possibility of Josh and me being--doing--I thought we gave you nightmares." 

"You do. But, damn, the way he looks at you! It's been way too long since anybody looked at me like that. If a man looked at me like that, I wouldn't care if Europe disappeared." 

"Europe's disappearing?" a voice asks from just behind me. I think I may have jumped. 

"CJ's still fixated about the cartographers, Josh," I say. 

"Right," CJ says. She is way too close to laughing at me. If she laughs, Josh will want to know what's so funny and I may have to kill her. "Those pesky cartographers." 

Josh sits down. There are, I should point out, three chairs he could pick. For some unfathomable reason, he chooses the one next to me and pulls it closer. Because I am over him, I push my chair in the opposite direction until there's a respectable amount of distance between us. 

CJ starts laughing. 

"What's so funny?" Josh asks. 

"That stupid scarf," I tell him. "CJ is laughing at your scarf." 

"Of course I am," CJ says and laughs some more. "It's a very funny scarf." 

"Aren't you supposed to be taking care of Sam?" I ask Josh. 

"Toby's with him," Josh answers. 

"Well, that'll cheer Sam right up," CJ says. "I suppose I'd better go take care of _that,_ " she adds in her best "I'm the only adult in the room" voice. She gives me a meaningful look. "Don't do anything I'll regret." 

Josh apparently takes CJ's leaving as some sort of excuse to invade my personal space again. He moves his chair closer to mine. At this point, I figure I'll look silly if I move too, so I sit there practically touching his shoulder. 

And we stare some more. 

We really have to stop with the staring. Whatever it means. 

"Stop drinking _now_ ," I say. 

Staring. I meant to say, "Stop staring now." I don't know why it came out "drinking." 

"It's only my fourth beer." 

"You have--" 

"Here we go." 

"A delicate system," I finish. 

"I'm not drunk." 

I stare some more. Simply because that is the only way to determine how drunk he is. "Yes, you are." 

"No, I'm not. You know how I know I'm not drunk? If I were really drunk, I'd tell you what happened the night Joey--" He stops abruptly, looks down at his beer and mutters, "Oh god, I _am_ drunk." 

And I'm nauseous. 

There was a night with Joey, and he doesn't want to tell me what happened. 

I wish I could disappear like Europe. 

"I should find CJ," I mutter. I start to get up, but Josh takes my hand and pulls me back down. 

"See, Joey said--" he starts. 

"I don't want to know what Joey said." 

"But what if she's right?" 

"I have absolutely no interest in hearing anything about Joey Lucas might have said. Or done. Are we clear on that?" 

"But," he says, "I want her to be right. I've never wanted anything as much as I want Joey Lucas to be right." 

Oh, just kill me now and get it over with. 

I seem temporarily to have lost the power of speech. Which is a bad thing because I'd very much like to order another drink. 

"Don't you want Joey to be right?" he asks. He has this tone, like he's six years old and he's begging you to tell him that Santa is real. Damn him for having that tone. Damn him for making me want his happiness this much. 

I nod. 

He breaks out into this magnificent smile. As much as it hurts to think about why he's smiling, I sit there and stare some more, just so I'll remember that smile for the rest of my life. He's that beautiful right now, stupid scarf and all. 

"They're coming back," he says in this conspiratorial whisper. I turn around to see Sam, Toby and CJ headed our way. Thank god. I don't think I could have taken another moment of Josh blissed out over Joey Lucas. 

I manage to smile while everyone else makes small talk about maps and protests and re-election, but I'm not listening carefully. I'm making plans. 

Tomorrow's Saturday, and I already told Josh I wasn't going to work. I was going to spend the day with Stephanie. But now I think I'll get those application forms filled out. And there's a letter I have to write. A nice, formal letter of resignation. 

I'm really going to do it. 

Just like Europe. 

I'm going to disappear. 

THE END


End file.
